The Duel at Castle Dour
by The Prince of Nothing Charming
Summary: It began with an echoing boom. It resonated for miles and shook the most hardened men to their cores. All the battles of this pointless civil war had culminated in this single event. The Stormcloaks' battering ram had reached the gates, it was only a matter of time now before this war ended, one way or another.


_**This is a variation of a Chapter in a Novelization I'm working on, I wrote this as a way to spark my interest in continuing the earlier chapters.**_

 _ **This is a largely standalone chapter and does not clearly reflect where my novelization is to go, it's simply to start generating interest in writing after an extended hiatus.**_

 _ **That being said I'm open to any and all constructive criticism to help me improve my writing.**_

The sky's were a dark charcoal gray, the threat of rain loomed over the streets of Solitude as ever present as the threat waiting patiently at the gates. The Dragonborn stood stoically on the ramparts of Castle Dour overlooking the main street of Solitude where hundreds of Imperial soldiers were entrenched in makeshift fortifications waiting patiently for the Stormcloaks to breach the Gates.

It began with an echoing boom.

It resonated for miles and shook the most hardened men to their cores. All the battles of this pointless civil war had culminated in this single event. The Stormcloaks' battering ram had reached the gates, it was only a matter of time now before this war ended, one way or another.

 _ **BOOM**_

The echo took the Dragonborn back, forced his memories to a time not so complicated. When life was just one game after another, rather than one battle after the next.

" _Ulfric, you're it!" Daric tagged his brother as he passed him in the Palace halls and started running away. He hardly spared a minute to see if his brother was following, the eight year old rather opted to sprint blindly down the halls._

" _I think not!" Ulfric laughed as he gave chase, this advantage came with height. At a outstanding fourteen years old Ulfric stood inches below the towering figure of their Father. Ulfric quickly caught up to his brother's short lead, though rather than tackle his happily giggling brother Ulfric chose to tackle him to the ground._

" _Gotchu!" Ulfric cried triumphantly from above his brother as he locked in a headlock and began rubbing his knuckles on his scalp and teasing his brother about a love note that Ulfric had found on his brother's nightstand._

 _ **BOOM**_

 _The Stormcloak brothers sat stoically outside their father's room. Hoag Stormcloak lay still beyond the door, his time having come. His body as old and frail as his mind lay broken in bed as his fever settled at a fatal temperature. The brothers sat emotionless on the bench outside the master bedroom._

" _Daric." Ulfric's voice broke the haze of broken thoughts that clouded Daric's head. "Promise me something?"_

" _Anything." Daric nodded determinately. He said anything and he meant anything._

" _Promise me we will always be together. That you will always be there for me. Because I promise that I will always be there for you." Ulfric's arm came around Daric as he clutched his brother tightly, both seeking comfort and sending it._

" _I promise Ulfric. I will always be there." Daric hugged his brother back and let loose his held back tears and he clutched his brother. Anything to avoid the realization they were now orphans._

" _C'mon, let's go say goodbye to Da." Ulfric pulled his brother to his feet and brushed off his shoulders. "I promise we will survive this Daric. As long as we're together."_

 _ **BOOM**_

The echo forced another memory to his thoughts. An unavoidable misery at such an unfortunate final hour.

" _Brother you must believe me! People want to follow you!" Daric argued plentifully, he had spent months fighting with his brother about it. Since the signing of the White-Gold Concordat there had been unrest. Who were the Elves to ban Talos from our minds? From our prayers? The Empire were weak willed and lacked the foresight to strike at the heart of the Dominion._

" _I don't believe it Brother. I am no hero. I am no revolutionary. Why would anyone be inclined to follow me?" Ulfric doubted as he sulked in the throne and took another drink of his bottle with a glum eagerness._

" _Because you are meant for greatness! People will whisper your name in awe when you kick the Empire from our land and restore our faith. We would stand in the streets of Solitude as they run red with Imperial blood. But you would rather wallow in self-doubt, regrets and alcohol than to fight for a cause and believe in yourself again?" Daric argued to the depressed Jarl occupying his brother's throne. "You are better than this Ulfric. You were meant to lead, to command men like you did at Markarth. Not sulk in defeat and drink like a glutton."_

" _Perhaps you are right." Ulfric sighed as he corked the bottle he'd been drinking from and stood from the throne. "Maybe it's time to begin a new chapter, how should we begin?" Ulfric stepped down from his throne to embrace his brother and for the first time in nearly a year Daric believed his brother truly deserved his placed upon it._

With each crash of the battering ram against the gate brought a moment of reflection, the Dragonborn found a sad-sort of solace in these unwanted memories. Thoughts that would inevitably make the coming battle more difficult. But brought peace with the knowledge that the man he faced today, was not the brother he had known forever, but a man tainted by power, greed and his own lies.

Within moments of the gate coming down the streets of Solitude were flooded in a sea of red and blue. Daric stood helplessly from the courtyard of Castle Dour as his own army stood against the Empire. He felt the pain of every fallen soldier. Not a single one of these men and women were the enemy, they were all victims, victims of his decisions. Their lives were forfeit as a consequence of his inaction and yet he could do nothing to stop this pointless bloodshed that played out before him like some sick show at the theatre.

His brother was too far gone. Ulfric would never understand Daric's arguments, all Ulfric saw when seeing him was an enemy, a traitor, the furthest memory of the brother he once had. As much as Daric had done for his brother, he knew the time had come, the day he would fight his brother. This would not be a petty duel, or a spar amongst brothers. No, this battle was much more than settling a petty score. This battle was to decide the fate of Skyrim, her people, and the rest of the world as a consequence.

Daric watched the battle from the high walls of Castle Dour, he watched Tullius and Rikke as they commanded their men into formation and fought back against the Stormcloak's uncoordinated attacks. Daric felt the wound of every blade, every single body fallen another slice at his heart. The prevailing thought of _I could have stopped this_ was nearly overwhelming. With every cry of victory, Imperial or Stormcloak standing over the body of just another innocent man caught in a war he had no hand in, Daric felt his resolve begin to break. How could he fight for these people? He had caused them so much pain already, how was he supposed to fix this?

He couldn't stand further inaction. He could not watch helplessly as his people slaughtered one another carelessly. As if the Divines answered his prayers with another push of Stormcloak troops into the courtyard below Daric spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Ulfric Stormcloak. Brother, War-Hero, Revolutionary, and a Blind Fool.

It was time for action.

Daric watched his brother closely from his vantage point. Their last encounter an unpleasant one at best. Daric urging Ulfric to stop his madness, to surrender their pointless war and focus on the real threats to the world. The Dragons. Miraak had made the Cult's plans quite clear at the Battle of Whiterun. The Cult would plunge the world into chaos so that Alduin's brothers and sisters could bring the End of Time uninterrupted and with it begin a new world forged from Alduin's Will.

Ulfric only saw one prize, and with it one enemy. The Throne and the Empire. He had sent his men on a pointless quest for the Jagged Crown, a symbol buried with a long dead king from thousands of years ago. As if wearing the crown of an old king boosted his legitimacy on the throne after trying to slaughter half the people of the province. Daric wondered his brother's sanity as he watched his brother fight, a feral aggression in his eyes, ferocious sounds accompanying his mercilessly indifferent slaughter. Ulfric was blinded by bloodlust as his axes danced across the Courtyard slaughtering all that got in his path be it friend or foe.

It was too much to bear, Daric refused in action any longer. He pulled forth his katana and stormed out toward the Courtyard. Toward his Destiny.

Daric's sight on the grounds of the Courtyard were much more harrowing than from above. The reality set in as he watched the pools of blood soak into the stones of the courtyard, the lifeless bodies scattered and dismembered, casualties haunting both factions. The men fought on around him as though they weren't tripping over the body parts of their dead or screaming comrades. Daric's mind processed all this horrible, unnecessary death as his gaze followed his brother's warpath.

A warpath it was indeed. The worst of this carnage appeared to be from Ulfric's hands as he twirled his twin axes and danced around the battlefield with his weapons, slaughtering those around him indiscriminately as though listening to the most beautiful music in the world. Stormcloak soldiers caught in his path were spared no mercy from Ulfric's axe as he cleaved his way through much of the Courtyard's occupants.

Daric stormed toward his brother and shouted with the force of the Dragon's spirit to roar over the sounds of battle.

" _ **Ulfric, Stop your Madness at Once**_ **."**

Ulfric stopped, his head snapping in Daric's direction. The surviving soldiers on both sides fell silent, the sounds of continued battle echoed from beyond the Courtyard walls. Soldiers on either side not willing to miss the events that would follow.

"My Madness? We started this war together Brother! Or have you forgotten that in all of your treachery and deceit! You were once the mastermind behind this entire campaign! Then you abandoned me! You figured out you were destined for greatness and you left me behind!" Ulfric roared as he swung his axes wildly toward his brother from across the bloody courtyard. Daric bowed his head in shame, he was right, it was his inability to see his brother's needs that he lost him.

"We are the only family we have! Do you remember when Father died? We promised each other we would always be there for each other. And I always was! It was _you_ that always left. It was you that abandoned me to my fate." Ulfric's pleas were full of malice and sorrow and Daric felt all the pangs of his failure. He remembered the promise, and it pained him to think of the boy that he had promised forever to, and the unrecognizable man he faced today wearing his brother's skin.

"I _always_ came back! I always tried to help you Ulfric! I _begged_ you to start this foolish war because the only time you ever seemed alive was when there was a war to fight! I begged stand down in Whiterun, and I wrote you countless letters pleading for you to end these sieges and stop wasting innocent lives." Daric's pleas fell on deaf ears as Ulfric roared again.

"You wrote me! That's beautiful! So much brotherly love, as I recall your letters are summed as, _'How are you? Can you stop fighting for the Cause I pushed you into fighting for. Please leave Dawnstar alone, please give Dawnstar back to the Empire. Please surrender to the Empire.'_ You are a nothing but _puppet_ , just like Torygg, at least he admitted it before he died."

"Gods damn it! Ulfric! There are Dragons trying to destroy Tamriel as we speak! How deep rooted is your hatred for the Empire that the End of Time is not your primary concern! It appals me that you so blatantly ignore a threat of such magnitude! If Father were here he would be ashamed of you." Daric spat at Ulfric. To call the man before him his brother was a tarnish on his brother's reputation. This man was an ignorant, prideful tyrant-to-be.

"Father would be ashamed of you too. Turning your back of your family, on your cause, on your people! You are just as much to blame for this war as I am!" Ulfric pointed to Daric his eyes gleamed with pure hatred and loathing, it was hard for him to see any resemblance to the man that was his brother.

"I may have taken it to this place, but I certainly remember being promised Greatness! If I recall, you said my name would be on everyone's tongue, you said I would be standing in the Courtyard of Solitude watching it soak in blood. Well here I am! Without _your help!"_ Ulfric spat venomously as if these accomplishments were something to be proud of.

"And see how you've done it Brother!" Daric gestured to the Courtyard around them, soaked in the blood of both Imperial and Stormcloak soldiers, littered with the bodies of both sides. "Your name is spoken with fear! People tremble at the thought of crossing your path! You stand in this Courtyard on the blood of our brothers and sisters!" He implored his brother to see reason, to understand how horrendous his actions have been and to renounce his ways and to ends this petty civil war.

"I share the blame with you Ulfric. Yes. I made a mistake begging you to take charge of the Rebellion. I thought your ego could handle it, but clearly I was wrong. You hold dear some distorted god-complex, you believe you are the rightful king of Skyrim and you are not. You are a Usurper and a Tyrant already. No manner of people would be foolish enough to elect you king of anything." Daric taunted his brother, he knew the time for words were coming to an end.

Only blades would end this argument.

"You are a coward! You hide behind the face of a prophecy but you are still the weak little boy I pulled out of the snow banks when Galmar beat you up! I can see it in your eyes. You don't have the intent to kill me. But I promise you, Brother, you will taste my axe as it cleaves through your throat." Ulfric finished his taunt as he charged his brother.

Daric quickly debated ending the duel with a Dragon Shout but his brother deserved an honorable fight. He withheld his brother's vicious onslaught of hacks and slashes, with each blow he watched Ulfric's eyes grow more and more ferocious, with each swing of his axe he recognized his brother less and less until he knew he could not reconcile with his brother. He parried the man in front of him and pushed him back with a quick shout of _**FUS**_ and began attacking relentlessly.

Each time his strike pushed Ulfric back Daric found himself remembering the boy he played with so many times in the Palace of Kings. He remembered the boy that cried when one of Father's horses died of old age. The same boy who played with orphans simply because he wanted them to feel loved too.

Daric looked at the man in front of him, unclean, unshaven, his eyes almost absolutely feral with rage. Ulfric help no reflection in his eyes, he had no qualms about murdering his brother. It looked as though he may relish the thought of eviscerating his brother. It took only a few moments for Daric to realize that his brother was lost. This man was broken and he could not be repaired.

His only mercy is a swift death.

Daric pushed away from his brother and back stepped across the Courtyard. The crowd of spectators had disappeared with the wounded and some of the dead. The only thing that littered the stone were corpses, limbs and puddles of blood. The stench of death was rather fitting amongst the carnage of the Stormcloak brother's creation. In the cultivation of his plans, Daric never once expected that when the Stormcloak brother's finally made it to the center of Solitude and stood in puddles of blood, would they be standing against each other on the blood of innocent people.

"You were the best brother I could have asked for. I pity the man you have become and I promise you Ulfric. I'll remember you as you were. The boy eager to make his father proud. The boy that strode to be an excellent role model for his brother. I will not remember you as this wretch that you have become. I love you Ulfric." Daric said more to the ground than to the man across from him. This man was not Ulfric Stormcloak, and to call him such would be an embarrassment to his brother's name.

"And I hate you Daric. You are the greatest disappointment in our family's history. Our Ancestors bow their head in shame of you. It'll be my honor to sever your head and send your soul to Sovngarde." Ulfric glared spitefully at his younger brother while he stretched his tired limbs and prepared to end his brother's life.

As dusk approached the edges of the Sky, all the people of Skyrim knew that with the fall of the sun, there would be only one Stormcloak remaining.

When the Brother's blades met they did so with killer intent. Neither would spare a mercy as they parried and struck each other in equal measure. Daric fought as his Father had taught him, with a calm poise and an even hand where Ulfric fought like a starved barbarian trapped with fresh prey.

Daric's blows were measured and timed, his reflexes and instincts controlling his battle. The blonde struck hard against his brother when his elder began to tire. As young as he was Ulfric was a mortal man, one that fought tirelessly before his confrontation with Daric. The swing of his axes became slower, his reaction time more sluggish. This weaknesses created the window he needed, and with a final breathe Daric plunged his blade into his brother's chest.

Time slowed as he felt his blades tip slip past the futile resistance of Ulfric's leather chestpiece. The blade felt like an extension of Daric as the momentum of his thrust buried his blade hilt deep in Ulfric's midsection. The pained gasp of Ulfric's surprise tore Daric's heart to shreds as blood flowed from Ulfric's wound over Daric's palm and down his arm. The youngest brother took hold of his elder as Ulfric collapsed into his chest, the duo sinking to the Courtyard floor while Ulfric choked out a bloody cough. Daric could do nothing to hold back his tears as he held his brother and soaked in his blood.

"I.. I.m.. s-so sor-rry Ulfy.." Daric voice broke as he resorted to his infantile nickname and clutched his brother for the last time praying the Divines offer him some peace in Sovngarde "Pl-ease.. D-d-on't leave me alone. I love you big brother." He never meant for any of this to happen. He wanted his brother to be happy. He wanted to give his brother's life purpose again. He never thought that he would come to _kill_ his own brother.

"Dar..ic. it.. Wasn't.. me.." Ulfric coughed out as he held dearly to the brother he fought so earnestly he pleaded with him to understand. "I'm goin-" Ulfric's words were halted by a vicious cough that forced blood from his throat, "to see Da again." Ulfric's attempt at a reassuring smile was ruined by the blood that was pouring from his mouth and quickly soaking into his furs. "I love you Little Brother." Ulfric's eyes dimmed as his body fell limp and his brother screamed with molten rage.

"No. Please no," Daric sobbed as he fell over his brother, clutching his lifeless body to him as he wailed uncontrollably. There was no going back. This had happened. He was never going to go back to Windhelm and find his brother half-drunk chasing the tail of a house-keeper again. He was never going to be welcomed back home with a bone-crushing hug and a short-lived wrestling match. He was never going to see his brother again.

Because he killed him.

" _Aha. ha. Ha."_ The menacing laugh sent chills down Daric's spine. Miraak. The spineless Dragon Priest that plagued Daric's life at the worst of times.

"This. Is. Not. The Time." Daric growled as he clutched his brother's body, his back still turned to the encroaching Priest. He was aching to mourn his brother, but of course, the worst of evils strikes at the worst of times.

"Of course it is. Though I'll admit I didn't think you had the stomach for Fratricide." Miraak taunted from behind Daric with a menacing glee. "When I hexxed Ulfric I never assumed he would get this far. I expected him to die in Whiterun, but I suppose the hex hadn't settled in just yet."

"You did this to him?" Daric's cold emotionless tone force the air aroumd them. The wrath of a Dragon within the temper of a man was a dangerous thing.

"I did. Hexxed him with a hate filled heart. Specific to thoughts of you." Miraak gloated arrogantly. "The more he thought of you the stronger the hex would set in until he would only think of you with malice and hate. Lucky for me thoughts of you guided his decisions when you weren't around. It wasn't long before the hex made him pliable to my wills." Miraak was ignorant of Daric's shivers of rage as he continued.

"I had hoped he would take the upper hand and defeat you himself. It would have freed him from the hex too, though I imagine he would kill himself soon after. Grief and guilt are terribly painful things as you must know, they are easily manipulated though." Daric tired of Miraak's voice. His arrogance and unrepentant glee at Daric's despair set a fire inside him. He stood to face his rival, his true opponent, and came to understand a simply truth.

He was Dragonborn.

The way Tullius told it when he and Rikke arrived at the Courtyard many of their accompanying soldiers got sick. The Courtyard was filled with burning corpses and flaming cloths. The stench of blood, fire and roasting flesh was overwhelming. The level of destruction. Most of the ramparts were heavily burnt or smashed, the ground was scorched in all but one place. Ulfric's body was perfectly preserved. The rest of the corpses were scorched beyond recognition and smoldered still as the Imperials approached.

Daric was found in the center with Ulfric's body unconscious but mostly unharmed.

When he woke up he demanded to Tullius that Ulfric's body was be burned on a pyre. He would not refuse his brother his last rights. Later that night, Daric gathered with the Stormcloak prisoners in the Courtyard of Castle Dour, Ulfric was placed upon a pyre and Daric stepped forward to speak.

"Brothers and Sisters of Skyrim. I beg of you. Do not remember Ulfric for what he was at the end. Remember Ulfric Stormcloak for what he was before. The man that died today was the furthest from Ulfric I've ever seen." Daric begged, he did not want his brother remembered for his recent actions. He wanted him to be the Bear of Eastmarch again.

"Ulfric was always kind to me. Though we were six years apart, he never let me feel left out or alone. He always had a kind word to say. Even when he started drifting down this road to madness he had his way with words." Daric found himself cursing his destiny and the enemies it made for him.

"I am just as much to blame for Ulfric's decisions as he is. It was me that wanted this war. It was me that convinced Ulfric to lead you. It was me that stood by and allowed my brother to be swallowed by his greed and his misery. It was me that didn't fight for him." Daric bowed his head in shame as he stared at the sea of Stormcloak soldiers, each with their heads bowed respectfully.

"So I ask you, please do not remember my Brother as the monster who fought today. But as the Bear of Eastmarch, who fought for his country and for his people." Daric finished as he lit his torch and set fire to his brother's pyre.

"Goodbye Ulfric. May you find peace in Sovngarde." Daric whispered as he stepped down from the Pyre stand and allowed the Priest of Akray say his last rites.

To Be Continued.

 _ **I hope you enjoy this standalone chapter of my upcoming series The Legend of Daric Stormcloak. At the moment it is slated for 3 Acts with 28 'chapters' which for length reasons will likely be split into smaller parts. I personally find massive chapters to be overwhelming both as a writer and reader, as they typically appear as blocks of text, are easy to misplace yourself in, and difficult to recover bookmarks if say you need to stop reading mid chapter.**_

 _ **The series is focused on the protagonist of this story, Daric Stormcloak, his best friend Jolfir Stone-Fist, Ralof and Hadvar as they explore a deeper version of the main events with more depth of story.**_

 _ **Motivation from this series stems from over 600 hours of collected Skyrim game time and how I felt different assets could've been used. For example, the Dragon Cult makes a significant appearance in the overall novelization. There's a small taste of that here. At the moment the series is planned for 4 Stories total. 2 based o gane content, 2 focusing on original, lore based plots.**_

 _ **That being said I am actively looking for a beta/sound board. Someone with an active interest in TES lore that is willing to fact check me, debate concepts and ideas as well as critique my written pages. If you have any interest people feel free to PM me.**_


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